


Loyalty

by universal_reno



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Armitage Hux, Drug Traffickers, Dubious Consent, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Mob Boss Kylo Ren, Past Armitage Hux/Dopheld Mitaka, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universal_reno/pseuds/universal_reno
Summary: Narconovela AUKylo Ren, one of the most feared traffickers in Tijuana, gives ex-FBI agent Armitage Hux an unconventional initiation into his inner circle.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Dopheld Mitaka, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Purely self indulgent smut resulting from watching too much Star Wars and too many novelas. I've never done modern AU of anything before, but Ren was just too perfect for the role of a narco junior (children of successful traffickers who grow up rich, violent and generally spend their lives behaving like 21st century Tony Montanas, to the determent of everyone else). 
> 
> I've actually got a full AU for this in my head that's slightly hinted at here, complete with betrayal, murder, infidelity, Hux's dead (or is he!) former lover, sadistic DEA and FBI agents, corrupt cops, sly attorneys, pickup truck chases, bad corridos, at least one trip to Colombia and lots and lots of shooting. But I'll spare you all that in favor of Ren and Hux banging.

There was always a gringo. For as long as Ren had been involved with the shadier side of Tijuana – which considering his father’s position in the cartel was as long as he’d been involved in life itself – every boss that moved any kind of weight had had at least one of the bastards hanging around. It took a gringo to trick other gringos apparently. Or something like that. As far as Ren was concerned most weren’t worth what they paid them.

The current iteration, though, was making him reconsider that position.

“What’s your name anyway, Güerito?” Ren asked. He was perched on the desk of the pretty ginger accountant his father had sent to sort out his books. Not that Ren needed help with that. His finances, like every other aspect of his plaza, were in perfect order thank you very much. He was a natural after all.

“Armitage Hux” the foreigner replied, not bothering to look up from his laptop. He rarely looked at him. Not in the nervous, deferential way that people who knew what was good for them avoided meeting his eyes, but in a way that gave Ren the distinct impression he didn’t give a shit. It was unacceptable, really.

“What the fuck kind of a name is that?” Ren drawled. He lounged back farther on the desk, Versace-clad elbow coming dangerously close to one of the seemingly infinite espresso cups littering its surface. God, did he live on that stuff or what?

“At least as good as Kylo Ren” Armitage glanced up at him, one elegant brow arched ever so slightly, before he turned his attention back to his work. “That sounds like something you made up yourself.”

Ren scowled. How dare the pale little shit talk to him that way! He traced one finger over the ornate grip of the .38 super tucked into his belt, wondering how smug Armitage would be with a bullet between his eyes. It was a shame he was too pretty to kill. And that his father would fuck him up if he tried.

He settled for slamming his palm against the back of the laptop, which even he had to admit was lame and more than a little petulant as far as revenge went.

“Well I’ll keep calling you Güero. The other is too weird to pronounce.”

“That’s what everyone else in this country calls me. I wasn’t expecting you to do any different.” Armitage slipped his fingers out from between the screen and the keyboard of his laptop, shooting Ren yet another unamused look.

“Whatever.” Ren got to his feet and straightened his already immaculate clothes. “I need a drink. Come on, you’re with me.” He drew the pistol and flicked the barrel in the direction of the door, the harsh fluorescent lights of the office glinting on the gilding.

“Get your bodyguards to go. I have work to do. Someone has to clean up the mess you’ve made before the boss decides the DEA bounty on you is worth more than the amount of trouble you cause.”

He made to open the laptop again, but Ren leaned over the desk and put his hand back on it, giving the accountant a glare that could only be pulled off by a violent man who’d spent his entire life getting his way.

“Are you refusing me, Güerito? Think you’re too good for me? I give the word and you end up hanging from a bridge, you understand? Or maybe I’ll send you back to your old friends at the FBI. I heard the reward for you is almost as big as mine.” 

Armitage gave a long-suffering sigh but got to his feet anyway. He stretched, the fabric of his shirt pulling taunt against his abs for a moment before he reached over to collect the Beretta from the top drawer of his desk and tuck it into the holster at the small of his back.

Ren’s mouth went dry. It took every ounce of self-control and practiced machismo he had not to stare. At least until Armitage brushed by him and Ren was left to appreciate the toned curves of his ass in peace.

It occurred to him that if the gringo really was an FBI agent who’d gotten burned like everyone claimed he was probably an absolute devil of a shot. Ren’s mind was suddenly filled with the image of him at his side in one of his trucks, rifle in hand, laying waste to his family’s rivals. He barely suppressed a shiver of excitement at the thought before Armitage turned to look back at him, already halfway out the door.

“Do you want to drink or what, Ren? I haven’t got all day.”

Ren schooled his expression and shoved by him on his way out. He’d have to fix that attitude before anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they had sex...

Ren’s house was surprisingly tasteful. Hux had been expecting walls full of gold plated AK-47s and at least one tiger, but was instead greeted by chic minimalism. The impression of sophistication was shattered, however, when Ren’s phone automatically connected to the speaker system a few seconds after they entered and continued to blare the same god-awful racket he’d had to endure on the ride over.

“Is that song seriously about you?” He grit out over the accordion-guitar-tuba combo. It was a stupid question. As far as he could tell every corrido on Ren’s playlist was about himself under one alias or another.

Ren gave an enthusiastic nod but turned down the music so he wouldn’t have to shout.

“If you’re competent enough and don’t piss me off I’ll have them do one about you. The composer who does the ones for all the Sinaloa guys owes me a favor.”

“Aren’t we at war with Sinaloa?” It seemed like the most sensible thing to ask when other options included _Why do you have people write songs about all the things you’ve done that could get you arrested?_

Ren shrugged. “Give it six months and we’ll be at war with Juarez. There’s always someone. That’s the business.” He went into the kitchen and collected a bottle of Buchanan’s and another of apple soda and began to fix the drinks.

Hux’s sense of self-preservation struggled for a moment when confronted with the choice between actually drinking the abomination Ren was offering him or further offending the armed and notoriously unbalanced junior. He clinked the glass Ren gave him against the one he was holding up for himself and braced for the worst. It was, shockingly, not that bad.

“Where did you come from anyway, Güerito? Your accent is different from the other gringos around here.” Ren finally asked after Hux made it apparent he had no interest in starting a conversation. He sauntered out into the living room with the bottle of scotch and settled himself on the sofa, patting the space next to him. Hux forced himself to follow, despite all his instincts screaming that he needed to get away from this man. He ended up in a faux-casual lean against the opposite arm of the sofa, as far from Ren as two people on the same piece of furniture could manage.

“London, originally.” Hux made a point of speaking more to the huge windows in front of them than to Ren. Outside at least half a dozen sicarios were keeping an eye on the property. Despite the burning afternoon sun they all seemed to share Ren’s penchant for all black everything. If Ren had any sense there would be snipers on the roof as well.

“London. Huh. How’d you end up with the FBI then?” Ren, unheeding or more likely uncaring about the standoffishness Hux knew was radiating from every inch of his body, flopped back on the sofa so his legs hung over the edge and his head was only a few inches from Hux’s thigh.

“A long story. Suffice it to say your father deemed my credentials acceptable to be of service to the organization.” Hux forced himself not to react when Ren’s hand began to wander across his leg, then up to trace the outline of his pecs through his shirt.

He’d heard the rumors about Ren, of course. It was surprising that so many of them were allowed to circulate considering Ren’s well known tendency to torture and kill anyone who spited or even just mildly annoyed him. But some combination of his reputation as a sadistic murderer and people’s respect for his father had evidently left Ren feeling secure enough in his own position not to care if half of Mexico knew he was gay.

“I have time.” Ren rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on Hux’s thigh. The look he shot him from beneath his dark lashes was positively predatory. Hux couldn’t stop himself from tensing, blood beginning to pound in his ears loud enough to drown out good sense. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have a choice; he was free to rebuff Ren and rely on the younger man’s respect for authority to stop him from breaking an asset who was on loan from his father. But he didn’t particularly like those odds.

“I’m good at my job. I have certain…skillsets that the guys on the other side have trouble finding in their own people.” Hux dropped a seductive edge onto his words and was rewarded with a possessive smile curling at the edge of Ren’s mouth.

“Is that so?” Ren squeezed his cock just slightly too much to be comfortable, then pulled himself up to straddle him. His tight designer jeans did nothing to hide the growing hardness pressed against Hux’s stomach. “If you want to run with me I’ll need to see those skills for myself. I like to know I’m getting my money’s worth.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t worth my cut.” Hux let his hands come to rest against Ren’s ass and forced himself to breathe. He needed to focus if he wanted to do this well enough to avoid ending up dead on the side of a highway somewhere. Ren didn’t seem the type to keep a man who let his fear show around for long.

He kneaded at that taunt muscles under his hands and ran a finger along the seam of Ren’s jeans, pressing in just slightly between his cheeks. An almost imperceptible shiver went through Ren and he angled his hips down a bit so he could grind their clothed cocks together. Hux made sure his little sigh against the side of Ren’s neck was sufficiently breathy.

“So forward. You really don’t have any idea of your place, do you?” Ren dug his fingers into his shoulders to steady himself as he rutted against him. The metal of their belt buckles clinked together until Ren reached between them to unfasten Hux’s. “If anyone is getting fucked today it’s you, do you understand?”

“Yes, boss.” Hux gave a faint nod that he knew Ren could feel against his chest. He wasn’t responding to Ren’s touches nearly as fast as Ren was to touching him and was pretty sure that would piss him off. Every junior he’d had the misfortune of coming into contact with had boasted just as loudly about his prowess in the bedroom as he had about his wealth and ferocity in a fight.

He closed his eyes and imagined it was Mitaka pressed against him. He’d done his best not to think about the pretty little hacker ever since that fateful day in Guadalajara that had ultimately led him to the cartel. He was dead now, surely. Hux had heard the shots over the radio. But picturing him was still enough to leave Hux flushed and trembling with a mix of emotions that he didn’t care to analyze but which seemed to satisfy Ren.

“Oh my love, I’m going to be so, so good to you.” Ren purred against his ear. He trailed kisses over his jaw on his way to pressing their lips together. Fueled on by his own imagination Hux kissed back with a level of passion that surprised even himself. When Ren’s teeth dragged over his lower lip he moaned and bucked up against him, savoring the metallic taste that spread from the injured spot. He clamped down on his unruly mind just in time to avoid panting Mitaka’s name against Ren’s lips when he pulled back to rest their foreheads together.

“Strip.” The order was breathed against Hux’s lips quietly, but in a tone that left no room for questioning. Ren slid off him and lounged back against the sofa while he waited for it to be carried out.

Hux got to his feet. He felt a bit unsteady but kept his eyes locked with Ren’s in a defiant glare that refused to show it as he worked open his shirt. The heat of Ren’s gaze on every newly exposed centimeter of skin was almost a physical thing.

Once all the buttons had given way Hux turned to give Ren a good look at his ass when he bent to kick off his Louboutins and slide his pants and underwear down over his hips. Even with his back turned he forced himself to keep his eyes open. Most of the killers outside had the letters and numbers that identified them over the radio painted on their Kevlar next to the insignia of the cartel. If any of them took notice and were stupid enough to try to blackmail him after this Hux wanted to know who to go after.

Once he was naked he turned back to face Ren. The trafficker looked him over and nodded, seemingly satisfied with the display, and waived him back to his side. Unsure what else to do Hux sank to his knees between his legs and set to work on Ren’s belt and jeans. The younger man’s hands came to rest on his shoulders when he took him into his mouth. Hux directed all his focus towards sucking him off to avoid thinking about it when he traced over the faint old scars he found there.

“Looks like this isn’t the first time someone has made you submit, Güerito...” Hux couldn’t suppress a shiver when Ren dug his nail against one of the pale stripes, but was gratified when whatever else he might’ve had to say dissolved into an incoherent moan as Hux swallowed him down completely, willing himself not to gag when Ren’s thick cock brushed the back of this throat.

Given how little self-restraint Ren seemed to have in general Hux wasn’t surprised when he grabbed his hair and started to fuck his mouth. More surprising were the moans and whimpers of desire that he didn’t bother to hold back and that left him sounding more like a common whore than a mob boss. Hux braced himself against Ren’s thighs, digging his own nails in, and Ren keened, hips arching up off the sofa. A moment later he was pushed away, then hauled roughly back up onto the sofa.

Hux’s eyes widened when strong hands wrapped around his throat as Ren kissed him again. He grabbed his wrists on instinct but the more he clawed at him the tighter Ren squeezed. Pressure built behind his eyes as they began to cloud with dark spots. Just when he began to think Ren may have actually intended to kill him he backed off and got up to fetch something from a cabinet on the other side of the room. Hux was left gasping, his own hands coming up to cover his abused throat.

Before he’d had a chance to catch his breath Ren’s hands were on him again, this time flipping him over onto his stomach. Ren spread his ass and something cool and slick was drizzled over the sensitive skin there. It was the only warning he got before Ren’s mercifully much better prepared cock pressed inside him.

Hux muffled a curse against the sofa, then bit down on his own wrist to keep himself quiet when Ren started to move. He was too big to take comfortably, at least not right away. But then Ren grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind his back and Hux was left with nothing to stop him from crying out as the pain that shot through his shoulder combined with the stretch in his ass to leave him a trembling wreck. 

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you. So good. So fucking tight…” Ren’s voice was a low growl behind him. The hand not holding his arm dug into his hip and positioned him to his liking until Ren found an angle that forced a needy whimper from him as every thrust hit home. Soon Hux was too distracted by the combination of Ren’s efforts and the almost painful friction of the leather sofa cushions against his cock to remain tense. Ren seized the opportunity to speed up, battering into him mercilessly.

_Don’t say Mitaka_ was the only thought Hux managed to hang onto as Ren did his best to fuck his brains out. Fortunately for him his former lover was so different from the man currently using his body that not even his sex-addled mind seemed capable of confusing the two. He was dimly aware of his own gasps of Ren’s name and undignified pleas for something he couldn’t even identify, but there was nothing potentially fatal in any of that.

“Ren…God, Ren! Fuck!” He reached back with his free hand seeking _something_ as his release loomed over him and was surprised when Ren let his arm go and laced their fingers together instead. Heat flooded his insides just before he spilled himself. He kept rubbing against the sticky mess he’d made of the leather below him until the waves of pleasure finally ebbed.

It took a moment to recover himself after Ren pulled out. Once he did he sat up to find the younger man staring at him with a dazed, almost fond expression. His softening cock left a smear of cum and lube against the expensive denim still covering his thigh, but if Ren even noticed his clothes were being ruined he didn’t seem to care.

“You did well, Güerito.” Ren reached out and smoothed his hand through Hux’s hair in an affectionate caress that turned more forceful as he cradled the back of his neck. “You’re mine now, do you understand me? Not my father’s. Not the cartel’s. Mine.”

“Yes sir.”

Hux nodded and swallowed around the pain in his throat. Ren’s come leaked slowly out of his ass and the feeling made his skin crawl. He met Ren’s eyes anyway, defiant despite his degrading situation. Judging by his expression it was exactly what Ren had hoped to see.


End file.
